Honor in War
by Sinestro
Summary: The Exile returns from Malachor V as the conquering hero, too bad it's the Republic he's conquering. Together with his crew and the Mandalorians, they'll give them a war to remember. ExileVisas, other couples will be revealed later.
1. The Conquering Hero

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Planning, that's what it all came done to. Whoever planned the best, whoever was better prepared, would always come out on top. Like Kreia and Revan before him, it was his turn to plan, to pull the strings. This time he would be the one in charge.

This is what was going through the Exile's mind as he flew away from the scattered remains of the once proud planet. He knew that if his plans were to succeed then everything would have to come together perfectly, and that included tying up a few loose ends. Those that called him "friend" would have to be informed. At least, the ones he would keep.

Like Revan, he knew there was a faction past the edge of known space, these so called "True Sith". Unlike Revan however, he had no intention of stopping them. Better to let Revan take care of that, while he worked towards bigger and better things. For it was his intention to conquer the Republic. To make it his own and mold as he saw fit.

He turned his attention from the autopilot, slowly walking to the small work bench, musing on how to better achieve his goal. He liked Sion's approach, stealth and precision would be the best way to bring about this change in events. Yet even as he set to work on his customized stealth field generator, he knew that these alone would not be enough. That had been Sion's failing. It was while he was deep in thought that the sound of clanking, durasteel feet could be heard approaching.

"Statement: Master, we are nearing Citadel Station. The meatbags have requested we land in hangar bay 13." a mechanized voice called from the shadow-filled hallway.

"Tell me HK, are we to recieve a hero's welcome?" the Exile questioned with a sarcastic grin.

"Answer: Master, I believe they said the Admiral Carth Onasi has sent an escort to his office."

"That will be all, droid."

He briefly pondered what the Admiral wanted before walking to the fresher. He was still deep in thought as he removed his Mandalorian Assault armor, a gift from Mandalore, and adjusted the water to a comfortable temperature.

* * *

Ten minutes later he was polishing his armor, a small preperaton before his meeting with the Admiral. He knew Onasi would probably be one of the few who could stand against him in the upcoming war. Just one more reason to have him killed. There was just one last thing he needed to do before going to face the Admiral.

After donning his armor, he slowly made his way through the halls of the Ebon Hawk, padding along until coming to a stop just outside of the small room that housed the hyperdrive. Peering in he could his small astromech droid, T3-M4, carefully making repairs.

"T3, come over here. I've got a few last minute modifications to give you before we dock. You may want to shut down, this could take a while."

The diminutive droid beeped quizzically before complying. With the machine powered down the Exile set to work programming a task that the droid would have no choice to obey.

* * *

About thirty standard minutes later, the Exile, HK-47, and T3-M4 were descending the loading ramp of the Ebon Hawk. HK immediately began an inspection of all possible escape routes, his Mandalorian blaster rifle pointing at everyone walking about the hangar, while they awaited the arrival of their escort.

"Logan…" called a calm and soothing voice from the shadows of some nearby crates.

The Exile spun on the spot, a large smile plastered on his face that, thus far, only she had the power to cause. Out from the shadows emerged a hooded figure, gracefully moving towards the Jedi Exile with long, fluid steps.

"Visas!" he cried happily, embracing her before quickly gathering his cool, "Are you to be our escort?"

"I am." she replied, a small smile adorning her lips.

"Well then, this promises to be much more pleasant than I anticipated. I assumed he'd send some scrawny little pencil pusher." Now no longer trying to hide his happiness.

* * *

The two walked down the halls in a comfortable silence, taking pleasure in each others presence. The only reminders that they weren't alone being the metallic footsteps and rolling wheels of the droids and the wary glances of the occasional TSF guard.

"It's been a long time since I've enjoyed walking anywhere." Visas quietly offered, moving closer to the Exiles side.

"It's been a some time since I've had someone to enjoy it with." Logan replied, his insides swimming from their proximity.

He reveled in the faint blush that made its way to the seers face as they continued their walk. Several times over their journey to find the Jedi masters, he would find himself reflecting on the moments the two would meditate together and the conversations that followed. Often time those memories were the only thoughts that kept him going.

As time passed by and the walk continued, each of them lost in their own thoughts, they eventually came to a stop outside of Admiral Carth Onai's private office. The two sentients gazed at each other for a moment before all four of them entered.

Inside, the walls were the usual tope color while a maroon carpet had been lavishly spread across the floor. A fire was blazing in a stone fireplace over to the side, casting shadows throughout the room. In the middle of the room, sitting in a leather arm chair at an oak desk, was a middle-aged man with brown hair and a goatee.

"The Exile?" the man asked, looking up from the mess of papers spread out on his desk.

"That would be me." Logan replied, looking the man straight in the eye.

"And his friends. That's good." he said in turn, "I suppose you're wondering why I called you here." he said upon noticing the anxious look on the Exile's face.

"I'm dying to know." Logan responded with a heavy amount of sarcasm.

"Well I'll get right to the point then. I… no, the Republic needs your help. The people are lost without a strong figurehead. Now Bastilla Shan and I have already tried but we just don't measure up. We need you to find Revan. She's the only one who's ever been able to command our fleet that well. Chancellor Cressa has already granted me access to whatever funds you'll need." he explained.

"How in the name of the Force am I supposed to find her?" he asked, now not bothering to hide his distaste of the Admiral.

"T3-M4 must know where she went, he was with her. If you just leave him with my technicians for a few days I'm sure we could get it out of him." he replied, trying to remain calm.

Realizing this fit perfectly into his plans, the Exile's eyes seemed to blaze with the light from the fire beside him. Quickly formulating how best to answer the Exile replied,

"Of course Admiral, I would be happy to search for Revan if you are able to find anything in T3's memory core. All I ask is for a few days for my crew and me to rest."

"That would be acceptable." Carth answered, suspicious about the Exile's sudden change in disposition.

"Then I thank you." he said before turning to leave with Visas and HK-47, a small grin plastered on his face.

Out in the hallway the trio walked in relative silence until they were about thirty meters from the Admirals quarters.

"HK, please get the word out to others, except Bao-Dur and Brianna, tonight we're meeting at the Cantina. Three standard hours from now." Logan ordered, breaking the silence with his commanding tone.

"Statement: Of course Master."

* * *

Later, the Exile found Atton, Mandalore, Hanharr, and Visas sitting around a small table, with HK and G0-T0 nearby to keep others from passing to close. The aromas from many different alien dishes and drinks filled the crowded room, with the music blaring in the background.

"So what did you want us for Logan?" Atton asked, already on his second hit of Juma Juice.

"We're going to conquer the Republic." he replied, acting nonchalant.

At this the others, minus Visas and the droids began laughing. The laughter slowly died down as one by one the all realized he wasn't laughing.

"Heh, you're kidding. Right?"

"No Atton, I'm very serious. We're going to conquer the Republic." Logan answered.

"But… how?" Atton questioned.

"We've already got the support of the General Vaklu and Iziz, and if Mandalore is willing to ally himself and the Mandalorians with us again then it is possible." he replied confidently.

"We don't have the man power or the equipment needed for a war of that scale, not to mention ships or a proper army." Mandalore spoke up, knowing that the Exile had a plan to counter that, and was anxious to hear it.

"Mandalore, if we take a few months for your men to train Vaklu's troops while Visas, Atton, and I train their Force sensitives then you know that we stand a chance." he countered, "And besides, think of how many Mandalorians will come to join you, for the chance at returning the clans to their former glory."

"It's too risky, my men are just getting used to being united under a single banner again. We don't want a repeat of our last war." he responded, hoping he didn't sound as cowardly as he thought.

"Did I ever tell you Kreia's prophecy about the Mandalorians?" he asked, calling upon the Force to make his words sound more powerful and convincing, as he had done several times during the Mandalorian Wars, "I believe it went something like _"They will die a death that will last millennia, until all that remains is their code, their history, and, in the end, the shell of their armor upon the shell of a man, too easily slain by Jedi."_

"When do we start?" was the man's only response through his barely controlled anger.

"As soon as I tie up a few loose ends." Logan replied, a feral grin displayed on his face.

* * *

Later that night, approximately five standard hours after their meeting in the Cantina, two shots could be heard coming from the interior of the Ebon Hawk. Not two minutes later, a rust colored droid and a large Wookie came stalking down the cargo ramp. Being dragged behind them were lump shaped objects which they deposited in two of the security lockers in the hangar. The two quickly got back onto the ship just as it disappeared into the stars.

The next morning a young TSF officer was found violently expelling his breakfast after discovering the bodies of a pale Zabrak sporting a mechanical arm and a young Echani woman.


	2. New Beginings

I apologize to anyone who may have actually been reading this and wanted to continue reading this. I have been unable to work on this due to being in a high school production of "Guys and Dolls" which basically had run my life for the past few months. I hope to continue this story at a fairly steady pace from now on. Again, anyone who cares, thank you for your patience.

_-Sol0mon Grundy_

* * *

Deep in space, far into the vast reaches of the Unknown Region, a medium-sized starship floated past a dull, grey and white planet. Inside, a solitary Mon Calamari sat staring at the command console. It was a time of great indecision for the young sentient, a time when the most insignificant change could destroy the remnants of his life. Glancing down at the seat beside him, he was instantly reminded of his loss.

Confusion reigned in the galaxy and several members of his profession had chosen to go into exile. Attempting to distract himself, the Calamarian brought the charts he'd purchased from a small time smuggler up on the screen. The planet he orbited, though it was hardly large enough to be considered one, was dubbed Calyx by the few smugglers that had been this far from the Republic. A desolate, ice-covered world, it was the perfect place for the Mon Cal to get lost on.

While most ships were incapable of maneuvering through the many asteroids orbiting the planet, the Mon was unafraid. Having been an impressive mechanic, even by Mon Cal standards, he had built his ship himself. It had a pair of folded wings around a round cockpit with four low-profile laser cannons, two ion and two with standard laser fire. Aside from the cockpit there was seating for six passengers, three storage bays, two sleeping compartments, and a cargo hold, along with various other rooms. Though careful to avoid being arrogant, the young Mon Cal was quite proud of his ship and had named it _The Corvus Corvidae_.

As he banked around a particularly large asteroid, a small, disabled transport ship suddenly came into view. After his initial shock at seeing another ship this far from the planet, the Calamarian remembered the smuggler's warning of pirates and hailed them on the comm.

"Unidentified transport ship, this is Velos Merai of _The Corvus Corvidae_. State your intent and status."

After several minutes, when there was no reply, Velos again sent the transmission with the same results. After receiving no response both times, the Mon Cal began a thermal scan, with no life forms being detected. Already intent on settling on the planet below, Velos realized this may just give him something to do in his exile. Strapping himself in, the young pilot began the long and tiresome search for a desirable landing site.

* * *

After several hours of searching, Velos managed to find a small clearing near the foot of a large, snow covered mountain. To his immediate right was a large canyon going deep into the planets surface. To his left, a steep mountain range covered with ice and boulders. Straight ahead, a frozen wasteland covered in snow and extending as far as the eye can see.

Grabbing his normal equipment from one of the storage bays, a Bryar pistol, three sonic grenades, some extra ammo clips, winter clothes, and various other weapons, Velos left the safety of his ship to inspect the harsh environment of his new home for other signs of life. From his vantage point atop a large rock, all he could see for miles around was swirling mass of snow. About to give up hope, the young Mon Cal barely noticed a faint plume of smoke rising up from over the horizon. Taking this to be a sign of possible life, he unloaded his speeder from the ship and set off towards it.

Reaching his max speed of 650 kilometers per hour, hardly anything could be seen of the Calamarian through the swirling snow. As the features of his environment blended into one, Velos felt a vague tingle in the back of his mind. Slowing down to a crawl to better take in his surroundings, the Mon Cal again felt the tingle at the edge of his awareness, banking left just as a large wooden spear landed where he had been moments before. Stopping his speeder bike while simultaneously drawing his blaster, Velos began searching for his new opponent, who had yet to reveal himself.

Hearing a faint beeping noise, the Mon Cal turned around just in time to witness the spear explode a mere few meters away from him. Firing a random shot as his body flew through the air, Velos struck the ground with a considerable amount of force, fracturing several bones and ribs. As his vision faded, he was dimly aware of several dark humanoids surrounding him before he lost consciousness.

* * *

He awoke in a dimly lit room, heavy with the stench of rot and decay. Feeling a sense of weightlessness, the Mon Cal struggled to open his eyes. Upon opening them, he found himself in a makeshift kolto tank, crudely put together with spare parts. Looking around the small room, he saw several powered down protocol droids, along with an assortment of scrap parts mixed in with skeletal remains.

The one thing that drew his attention, however, was the prone figure of a young, human female. In the current lighting, he could not tell if she was dead or merely resting. His response came when, as if sensing he was awake, the woman sat up and stared at him. When he made it clear he wanted to get out, she got up and set to work on freeing him. As she began unplugging various wires, she started speaking to him though he could hear nothing through the thick glass and waters of the kolto tank. As if suddenly realizing this, the woman punched in a quick command on the console and the waters began to drain.

As she finished unplugging the equipment, Velos attempted to climb out of the tank only to tumble to the ground. As she rushed over to help him up, he took in as much of the woman's appearance as he could. She was roughly 1.6 meters tall with a slender, athletic build. Her light brown hair came down in a braid stopping midway down her back and she wore a plain set of clothing that was hardly fit for the weather of the planet. What was perhaps the most striking about her however, were her eyes. A deep amethyst color, like Hurikane gems in the sunset. As the last of the dizziness subsided, he became vaguely aware that she was still speaking to him.

"I _said,_ are you alright?" she asked, frustration evident in her tone.

"A little bit out of it, I'm sorry. My species aren't accustomed to kolto." he replied, curious as to how he had gotten there.

"Well then I guess I'll have to forgive you. So, what brings you to our lovely world of Calyx?" she questioned, with a slight hint of mockery.

"Just looking for a place to get away from of everything. Speaking of which, how did I get here? Last thing I remember was being attacked by some… things."

"You've been slipping in and out consciousness for the past few days. You're lucky; I had been tracking the group that ambushed you for quite some time. I only caught up with them because they stopped to catch you. I was able to rescue you and bring you back here." she answered, settling into a more comfortable position in a battered armchair while motioning for him to do the same.

"Well then I guess I owe you my life, thanks." was his response as he took the offered seat. Now that his eyes had grown accustomed to the light, he took a more detailed glance around the room, keep one of his large eyes trained on his host at all times. There were several small chairs scattered throughout the room along with a small cot, a medium-sized generator, a landspeeder, and a small workbench. As he looked more carefully at the room, he realized that he was in a small cave, rather than room as he had thought.

"Don't thank me yet. I need your help to recover something. Those natives, Venator I call them, stole something of mine. And I want it back. The only problem is it's being kept in their main fortress high up in the mountains. I can't do this alone, will you help me?" she asked, looking at him across the small fire in the center of the cave.

"I will. As I said, I owe you my life. Whether I pay you now or later is of little consequence. Though I must ask another favor of you. Once we have retrieved this stolen… whatever it is they have, will you help me get back to my ship?"

"Once we have gotten it back, yes, I will help you find your ship." she replied.

"Great! Now, to whom am I speaking?" he asked, one eye staring at her while the other eye was focused on the fire in front of him.

"You may call me Kae Aevum."


	3. You too?

First off, I'd like to thank the people who reviewed

First off, I'd like to thank the people who reviewed. I'm not the type to hold chapters for ransom until I get a certain amount of reviews but it's nice to know that some people are enjoying this. So to you kind few, I hope you enjoy this chapter even more, if not, let me know and I'll just have to try harder next time.

_-Sol0mon Grundy_

* * *

Two lone figures slipped quickly yet quietly through the dark, around crevices and boulders alike, the harsh winds whipping at their faces and stinging their eyes. As they climbed higher, the various landmarks below them, a tree here or a boulder there, grew smaller and smaller. Ahead of them, the summit seemed just as far away as it had an hour ago. As they stumbled onto one of the few level pieces of land to be found, one of the figures all but collapsed onto the ground before pulling himself upright onto a nearby stone.

"What's wrong?" the other asked.

"Nothing, I'm just a little dizzy. I'm not used to kolto." Velos replied, offering a weak smile between the ragged breaths.

"Well, we'll rest for a few minutes but we must keep moving. We don't want to be here in the morning. Not when the Venators send out their hunting parties for the day." Kae said, looking at the Mon Cal in front of her with a mixture of sympathy and annoyance.

After resting for several moments, though to Velos it felt more like a minute, the two began scaling the mountain once again, this time at a more leisurely pace. Each little slip of the foot or break of the ice sent their heart rate soaring and adrenaline pumping. With the temperature well below freezing, it was a difficult journey for the travelers.

* * *

It was two more hours and another break before they could clearly see the compound. Set on a large plateau, the enclave appeared to be roughly 2,500 square feet. A wall, just over three meters tall, had been erected all along the perimeter until hitting the back where it was blocked by the mountain itself. A large gate had been built into the front of the wall to allow the natives easy access. As they drew closer, there appeared to be what looked like slits in the wall. A primitive way to shoot from within the compound without being shot. Primitive but effective.

The sun was just beginning to rise from the other side of the mountain and, as they moved closer to the wall, several thatched roof cottages could be seen, just taller than the walls around them. Sentry towers had been placed all along the wall and rising from the center of the enclave was a large structure, not unlike a tree house found on Kashyyyk.

As they approached what appeared to be just another of the many strange rock formations, a strange guttural cry came ringing from within the rock. Almost instantly turret fire rained down upon them. Blaster bolts from the enclave's laser cannons smashed craters into the surrounding mountain; each bolt making rock and dirt explode like grenades.

The two dashed up the mountain, dodging bolts left and right, faster than what seemed humanly possible while simultaneously returning fire. Using only his Bryar pistol and a few sonic grenades, Velos looked over to his companion only to see her firing at the compound with a military-issued heavy repeating blaster. Not wanting to be outdone, he held down the trigger, slowly charging up a shot that would really do some damage. As the shot reached full power and the two closed the gap between them and the compound, Velos released the trigger, firing straight into one of the few gaps in the walls. Several seconds later, an explosion rocked the enclave, sending rubble and debris in every direction.

The whole compound was on fire; choking black smoke swirled above scorching puddles flame-thrower fuel. Blaster bolts sounding from every direction, chaos reigned on the mountain top. During the explosion Velos had lost sight of Kae, with no indication of whether or not she was alive. After firing multiple shots into a crowd of Venators, taking down nearly all of them, his blaster jammed and with the natives closing in on him a ranged weapon was out of the question. With mere feet between him and his attackers, he drew one of his most prized weapons from within his belt.

* * *

Taking a left turn into another nearly identical hallway, Kae wondered at her ally's condition. Calmly walking through the carnage of the explosion, strewn throughout the burning enclave, she happily bounced her retrieved artifact from hand to hand. Stowing the item within her pocket, she exited the compound to search for the young Mon Cal.

After several minutes of blasting, she was able to find the largest concentrations of turret fire and follow it to where she assumed Velos would be. As she turned a corner, she heard the unmistakable sound of a blaster jamming. Hurrying towards the source, she located the Mon and, upon seeing the Venators closing in on him, prepared to rush in and blast his attackers before they could reach him. What she was not prepared for was what he did next.

After watching him pull an object from his belt, presumably a weapon, she heard the unmistakable snap-hiss of a lightsaber before seeing a violet blade flash into existence. Still stunned by what she was seeing, and her failure to recognize him for what he was, she could only watch idly as he hacked and slashed at his opponents, bring them to their knees. With his would-be attackers slain, he turned in her direction and upon seeing her, flashed an uncertain grin.

As he attempted to communicate with her, a Venator riding one of their strange looking mounts came barreling towards him from behind. Thinking quick, Kae leapt through the air and, with her own snap-hiss, spiraled toward the sentient, slicing clean through rider and mount alike. As the bodies fell, she pivoted on the spot to face her ally and flashed her own cocky smile, wielding both a green and a blue lightsaber.

Staring at each other for only a moment, the two broke down into laughter and began their long trek down the mountain.

Comments? Concerns? I'd love some feed back and i can take criticism so don't worry about sparing my feelings. I'd really like to hear what you think. Having said that, if there's someone you like, let me know. I'll try to give them some more screen time if not next chapter, the one after.


	4. Right On Schedule

Dxun, the peaceful trickling of the rain, the continuous ambience of the jungle, the repetitive repelling of lowly creatures from the main gate. Oh how he loathed it. Try as he might, the Exile simply could not get used to his new surroundings. It was no Serrano, his home world. Nor could it compare to the tranquility or brutality of space. Aside from Visas, his one true love would always be space. He loved the peaceful quiet of it while at the same time getting high off of the thrill of being one tiny error away from total oblivion. It was breathtaking, really.

Yet here he was, stuck on this rock they barely called habitable. But he would not complain, oh no, the constant attacks by the local fauna kept him sharp. Besides, he couldn't complain in front of the Mandalorians. He'd lose their respect, and where would the fun be in that? Tired of dwelling upon the constant yet minor annoyances, Logan quietly slid out of bed, careful not to wake the sleeping seer beside him. Exiting the small dwelling that he shared with Visas, the Exile stepped out into the dark and humid night of Dxun.

With no clear destination in mind, Logan began a leisurely walk around the encampment, checking over any possible security breaches along the way. Not expecting to hear anyone other than the sentries awake at this ungodly hour, the Exile was shocked out of his reverie by heavy grunting coming from the direction of the battle circle. Changing his course, he slowly made his way towards the noise, hoping he could perhaps coax a Mandalorian into a sparring match. Recently however, few people were willing to go up against him. Ever since the affair aboard the Ravager even Bralor was reluctant to spar.

Upon turning the corner, Logan was shocked to see Mandalore sparring against both Bralor and Kelborn at the same time. It was a fantastic sight to see. Both younger Mandalorians were skilled fighters, even when it came to fighting as a team, yet Mandalore was able to match them blow for blow while either dodging or blocking most of theirs. Neither side looked willing to surrender and with none of them showing any sign of fatigue it looked like it would be a long match.

The end, however, came much quicker than he had anticipated when Mandalore caught a spinning kick aimed at his gut by Bralor. Using the younger warrior's momentum, Mandalore swung him around and straight into Kelborn's side, knocking them both out of the circle. He stretched out his arm to help the two fallen warriors up as a slow and weighted clap began echoing throughout the camp.

"Simply marvelous, beautiful even. I must say Mandalore, if you train our raw recruits half as well as you've trained these two, or yourself for that matter, the Republic will never know what hit them." Logan's voice echoed as he walked out of the shadows.

"Heh, you ain't seen nothing yet, kid. Stick around, maybe you'll learn something." the war veteran replied, the pride evident in his tone.

"Oh, indeed. I believe I already have. I wonder, would you grace me with a sparring match my good friend? It's been some time since I've had someone willing to spar with me."

"I supposed I could knock some sense into you. As the one being challenged I decide the terms. Just fist and foot, like your fight with Targen. Now put aside your weapon and let's begin."

No further words were exchanged, none were needed. Both knew what to expect and they stood at the ready. Each of them silently waiting for the other to strike. Suddenly, Logan spiraled through the air at his opponent. Mandalore, having expected such a typical Sith approach, merely stepped to the side and stuck his fist right into the path of his attacker. What he hadn't anticipated was for him to twist around his outstretched arm and simultaneously knock his legs out from underneath him.

Both rose from the ground instantly before charging back at each other. The Exile through punch after punch at the warrior, kick after kick but none of it seemed to faze him. Looking at the armor that encased such a man, one could only marvel at the strength of his comrade.

Inside the armor, Mandalore was breathing heavily. Punch, kick, sweep, jump, thrust. It mattered not; he simply could not land a telling blow on the former Jedi. Duck, twist, swipe, spin. It seemed he could not take down the dark one in front of him. He, however, refused to fail in front of his two top men. He would not be defeated by some Jedi whelp.

The Sith sensed the older man's inner turmoil and briefly reflected on what to do. On the one hand, it wouldn't do to have Mandalore disgraced in front of his men, leading to them questioning his leadership and making his own plans difficult. On the other hand, he couldn't simply throw the match, could he? Was it worth the humiliation to spare him self from this minor inconvenience? Reflecting on how crucial the Mandalorians cooperation was to his plan, he was forced to accept that yes, it was worth it.

Seizing his first opportunity, the Exile left him and opening that would have easily just looked like the mistake of a man growing to confident and under-estimating his opponent. Taking the bait, Mandalore smashed his head against the exposed forehead of his Sith ally, causing the man to clutch his face in agony. Again grabbing his opportunity, the veteran took this chance to smash his knee into his opponents lower abdomen, resulting in the Sith doubling over in pain. With the Exile's back exposed, Mandalore raised his arms in the air, fingers laced, and smashed his combined fists down onto the weakened man, successfully incapacitating him and knocking him unconscious. The last thing he heard before slipping into the dark was the cheering of Kelborn and Bralor as their leader began lifting him from the ground.

* * *

Darkness was the first thing that greeted him. He had exchanged one darkness for another, yet this one was more real and less permanent. A light pressure was pressed up against his chest; it was warm and soothing all at once. Looking down he saw the sleeping form of Visas, curled up against him. She really was quite beautiful; it was times like these, which were quite rare, that he felt a deep sorrow and regret for continuing her along the dark path as few were ever content once starting down it. Shifting a bit to try and alleviate some of the pain on his back, her head rolled to the side causing her to wake. Without even looking up she said to him,

"You threw the fight." it wasn't a question or an accusation, just a statement.

"How did you know?" he asked.

"Mandalore dropped you off here, he was furious, ranting about how his victory was a fraud. He demands a rematch once we get off planet. Of course, he's not telling the other Mandalorians it was fixed." she replied, turning to him with a soft smile.

"Good ol' Canderous." he said before succumbing to his passions and kissing her full out on the lips, climbing on top of her while using the Force to close the door.

* * *

It was several hours later that he reemerged from his dwelling looking more relaxed any of his crew had ever seen him. The sun was shining, or at least, as much as it had ever shown on Dxun. Taking this to be a good sign, he slowly made his way to the communications building to meet with General Vaklu and Mandalore. For about three months now the General had been making regular visits to Dxun to give his reports in person and listen to the accounts of his… allies. Now it was just starting to pay of for the Exile. After exchanging the usual pleasantries and ignoring a rather pointed glare, even through the helmet, Logan was ready to get the meeting underway.

"Tell me General, how goes the training of your troops. I trust my men are getting them into shape?" Mandalore asked.

"In all honesty Mandalore, we were right to fear you on the battlefield. Seeing your men at work, I can see why we had such trouble against you. Though rest assured, should you ever try it again, we will be prepared." he replied.

"Relax General; I'm quite certain that won't happen. Now then, to business. I'm far more interested in your search for Force sensitives. Have you found many?" The Exile asked.

"We have found quite a few actually. Some were… less than willing to join our cause but they soon saw our way of thinking, others proved to be quite willing however. Several even sought us out themselves rather than wait for us to find them. They were eager to join our cause, to gain what meager power they could." He answered.

"Excellent General, have the ones you've gathered sent to Ambria. We a settlement there where the apprentices shall be trained. My apprentice, Atton, shall accompany them. For the safety of this collaboration, I will not be sharing their coordinates with either of you, you understand." A wary glance at the two showed they were both clearly offended but neither was willing to press the matter. After noticing this, the Exile inwardly smiled and said, "Good, good. Well then, gentlemen, if you'll excuse me. I have some important business to attend to."

Leaving the building, the Exile was approached by Visas, who had been waiting just outside the door.

"It went well?" She asked.

"Peachy, my love, just peachy." He replied, his signature feral grin making its way to his face.

* * *

Later that night Atton was sitting in the dwelling that had been allotted to him until he departed for Ambria when he heard a knocking at his door.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." He called out. Upon reaching the door he opened it to find his master staring down at him.

"Uh… Logan, I mean… what can I do for you? Please… uh… won't you come in?" He offered, caught off guard by his presence.

"Oh I really don't have the time for a social visit Atton; perhaps we'll play some pazaak when you get back. No, what I was wondering is, how much exactly do you remember of what Revan did to his men to train them to hunt Jedi?" he asked.

"Well, honestly? Everything. It's not exactly the kind of thing you'd forget, you know? Why do you ask?" He replied.

"Well, what would you say if I wanted people like them? And if I wanted you to train them?"

"Well that depends… master. Is that something you're likely to ask?"

"Ah Atton, even after all we've been through you still keep your since of humor. I admire you for it, I really do. However," he paused to punch hard once in the gut and once to the head, knocking him to the ground, "there is a time and a place for everything and I'm afraid this is neither the time nor place. Now get up, you leave for Ambria immediately." he commented, kneeling beside the prone figure of his apprentice.

As he was leaving, he stopped at the and turned around saying,

"And Atton? Remember, don't disappoint me."


	5. Memory Lane

Quiet time… he hated it! It left room for all the unpleasant thoughts, all the horrible things he'd experienced to resurface into his mind. However, still, it helped to sort things out every once in awhile. Ever since these blasted wars started he'd done nothing but fight, always remaining in constant action. Now that he had the time, it seemed fitting that he work a few things out. Reminisce, if you will.

* * *

Dantooine was never interesting, especially not to a young man with a burning desire to see the universe. At just seventeen years of age, Logan Nalju was more accomplished than many of his fellow padawans. All except for one: Raven Nightstalker. She was always better than he was, and probably always would be. This, above all else, angered him the most about this place. He wanted to knock her down a few pegs, to show the others that she wasn't as great as they thought she was. But that was against the Jedi code, and so he could do nothing about his anger.

Leaving the privacy of his own chambers, he began the lengthy walk to the practice room. Upon arriving, he quickly scanned the room for anyone who might prove challenging enough to let him vent some anger. Seeing no one, he sighed, lowering his gaze to the floor, and resigned himself to having to face another low level. However, upon looking up, he was startled to see one Alek Squinquargesimus sitting off in the corner.

'_How could I have missed him?_'

"Hey Alek!" He shouted, causing the bald youth to turn in his direction.

He watched in awe as the eighteen year old stalked towards him. The man stood at roughly two meters tall with enough muscle to wrestle a dewback to the ground, and yet, he always managed to look somehow lithe and elegant as he moved. The tattoos he'd gotten just a few days prior somehow made him seem intimidating and for the first time he wondered if he could win this fight.

"What is it you want, Nalju?" Alek asked as he approached the younger padawan.

'_Never one to beat around the bush, is he?_' Logan thought, "I was wondering if you'd like to have a duel. I hear you claim to be second only to Raven when it comes to the blade. I thought I'd prove you wrong."

"If you are trying to pick a fight, you've got one. Let's see if we can draw blood from the little Princeling." He sneered, putting a hint of malice into the last word.

His anger flared at the taunt as he drew his saber. Sure, he was part of the Nalju family, one of the six Great Houses of Serreno, and yes, he was technically a young Count. But he was no Princeling and he would not stand for such an insult. Igniting his green blade, he got himself in the ready position as he waited for Alek to do the same. When the older male ignited his own blue blade, Logan was briefly shocked to see that his blade was somehow longer than the norm.

Gathering his composure, he started his deep breathing exercises, waiting for his opponent to make the first move.

"You know Alek, looking at your blade; I'd say you were over compensating for something." He quipped.

That was it, the bald man charged at him with all the speed of a raging boma beast, and half the grace. He made a vicious slash at the younger man's midsection only to have it blocked. Twisting quickly, he attempted to slide the blade up his opponent's, catching him on the hand.

Seeing what Alek was doing, Logan twirled his blade, pushing Alek's away while at the same time leaving a gash along his left thigh.

"Careful Alek," He taunted, "Don't let your anger blind you."

Parrying the blow that would have severed his arm, Logan couldn't help but laugh at his opponent's attempts. For all his martial prowess, the bald man could not land a blow.

'_The fool, why does he employ Juyo? Doesn't he know it's an incomplete form? Maybe I should demonstrate his inferiority._'

Swiping the older padawan's lightsaber to the side, twirling his blade as he did so, Logan proceeded to create large gashes in both his right leg and left arm. Gasping in pain, Alek prepared to bring his lightsaber down upon the young Count in one final act of desperation. Easily parrying the blow, one handed, he continued to bring his blade along his opponents, slicing both of his hands neatly off. As the older man howled in pain and rage, Logan merely smiled and said allowed to any who might be listening,

"How about a hand for our dear friend Squints here."

Laughing maniacally at his own joke, he almost didn't hear the clapping that steadily grew louder.

"Oh? Somebody who appreciates my joke? Step forward, let's get a good look at you."

The smile on his face quickly turned to a scowl as his eyes landed upon none other than Raven Nightstalker. She in turn went from glaring at him to sharing a look of concern with her fallen friend.

"Here to... lend a hand?" He asked, again laughing at his joke.

"I'm just here to see that you get kicked out of the Order, this is too much! You've cut off his hands! He may never wield a lightsaber again!" She shouted, tears streaming from her eyes as she crouched down beside Alek.

"Oh please, the medics will reattach his hand with a vibroscalpel and some synthflesh. A few days of kolto injections and some cheap meds to dull the pain, and he'll be back at it. And it's not my fault if Squints here got a little careless when parrying my attack in a practice duel. You keep your little boyfriend company, I'm leaving." He responded, walking towards the exit.

"What's the rush? Come back here you coward!" She shrieked, causing him to freeze in his tracks. "I challenge you to a duel; let's see how well you stand up to me. Or are you too afraid that I'll kick your royal ass?"

Angered at being taunted by the one he despised so much, he turned around and paced back to the center of the duel ring. Walking straight up to her so that their faces were mere centimeters apart, leaning in so that his lips were just next to her ear, he whispered,

"I'm going to make you scream."

Backing up to his starting position, he again drew his blade and entered into his Makashi stance. Watching her retreat to her own position, he smirked as she drew her blue saber, and then paled noticeably as she drew a second, shorter, green lightsaber. Fighting back his surprise, he settled down to wait for her to make the first move.

He didn't have to wait long. With blinding speed, she closed the distance between the two, swiping at his legs with the blue saber while slashing at his head with the green. Jumping over the lower saber while simultaneously blocking the other, he had a sudden realization that would have caused great fear within him, if his mind weren't so warped that he no longer felt any.

'_She practices the Ataru form!_' He thought, as she flipped out the way of one of his attacks, flipping again to land behind him, landing a blow across his left shoulder blade. Grunting from the pain, he turned to attack her only to find her gone. When he turned around again it was only to have her blade slice across both thighs. As he dropped to his knees, screaming from the pain in his thighs, he looked up only to see Raven holding her sabers in and X formation around his throat.

"Well done, Nightstalker." He said through gritted teeth before passing out.

Three days later she, Alek, and scores of other Jedi left to go fight the Mandalorians. Logan was one the first to volunteer for reasons that he refused to share with anyone. The way he saw it, this was his chance to prove to everyone, once and for all, that he was better than Raven Nightstalker.

* * *

He physically shuddered in his meditation, subconsciously reaching towards his thighs as he continued to search through his memories. Beside him sat Visas, keeping guard to ensure that no one disrupted him while he was in this fragile state.

* * *

Logan was beyond pissed off. Here he was hacking through the growth and underbrush of Dxun while Revan, as they called her now, remained high and dry in her command ship.

'_Imagine! Me, a lowly general while she commands the entire army, with that pitiful kath hound Alek, as her second in command. I could easily beat that brute in combat and yet he's my superior! And now they want me to storm a minefield, the arrogance._'

"General, they've laid the bridge heavily with mines. If we try to cross, we'll suffer heavy casualties. Please sir, let us wait for reinforcements." The pitiful woman beneath him pleaded.

"That's a negative soldier, we have orders. And the thing about orders is: we have to follow them. Now storm that bridge!" He replied.

"But sir−"

"Daddy always said, 'If you're gonna go out, go out with a bang!' I think this provides you with the opportunity for the perfect bang." He said, smiling as he walked away.

He could only watch in amusement as the woman gathered his troops and began storming the bridge. Explosions rocked the very foundations of it as they ran through, man after man falling to the blasts. Those that survived the mines were immediately gunned down by the dozen or so Mandalorians that waited for them after.

'_Pitiful really, if they were too servile to challenge me, to ignore my order, then they deserved their fate._'

Igniting his lightsaber, he charged into battle as the last of his men were gunned down. Out numbered and out gunned, any but a Jedi would be feeling the strain. His saber became a blur of activity, deflecting blaster bolts left and right, he slashed at the mid section of the Mandalorians nearest him, neatly slicing him in half. Twisting slightly, he brought his blade around and jabbed it towards the chest of the next, running him through. His advance on the Mandalorians gave him a newfound respect for them. Not once did they hesitate, show fear, or attempt to retreat, not even down to their last man.

As he stalked towards the single Mandalorian, he let loose a volley of shots in rapid succession. Blocking them easily to the side, Logan grinned at his opponent but was unprepared for the power shot that followed them. The shot hit him in the stomach, knocking him to the ground and sending his lightsaber flying.

As the Mandalorian paced towards his prone form, blaster rifle raised to finish the job, something snapped inside Logan's head. Raising his hand, he thrust it violently at the Mandalorian. The warrior laughed when nothing happened until and orange beam extended from him to the fallen Jedi. The pain he felt was excruciating, as if he were being ripped apart. And all the while, the Jedi was growing stronger, feeding off of the Mandalorian's life force.

With a final shriek of pain, the Mandalorian collapsed to the ground as Logan stood.

'_I think it's high time I returned to the ship._'

* * *

Malachor V. A true blight upon the galaxy. Even the Mandalorians disliked.

'_Can't say I blame them._'

All around the planet, ships were everywhere. From mere star fighters to the flagships of both armadas. Down on the planet, thousands upon thousands of soldiers, Mandalorian and Republic alike, were battling for control. The sheer scope of the battle was spectacular.

'_And not one of them is going to make it._' He thought with a sneer.

He knew he had fallen to the dark side, ever since the second battle of Dxun, he knew. And he liked it. He hungered for power, power enough to someday defeat Revan. Until that day however, he would have to play the part of the obedient little general. He was shaken out of his reverie as the comm. link flared to life.

"General," It was Revan, "Give the order. Now is the time to crush our enemies."

"As you command... Lord Revan." It pained him to use such a term of respect for the woman as the comm. went silent. He turned to the Iridonian who had made this plan possible, Bao- something. As the two stared at each other, the General gave a brief nod in his direction and the Iridonian begin punching in a sequence on the terminal. In a blinding flash of light, Malachor's gravitational field began caving in on itself, crushing the men on planet and those ships unlucky enough to be too close to the planet.

Both the General and the Iridonian were sent reeling as a concussion wave from the blast struck their ship. Hitting his head against a console, the General blacked out as the ship reached critical systems failure, sparks flying everywhere.

* * *

He awoke in a medical room, the blinding light above him causing him to flinch. Turning his head, he again, opened his eyes to see a small portable holo beside him. Turning it on, he was disgusted to see Revan's face.

"Ah General, my friend. It is good to see you alive and well. I trust you are feeling better? No matter. Nothing would please me more than if, once you're decent, you would join me on the bridge, I have a special surprise for you."

Grimacing as he stood, the General slowly got changed into his Jedi robes. Once finished, he exited the medical bay, securing his lightsaber to his hip as he walked. The trip was tedious and time consuming but he knew Revan well enough to know that if he didn't go, he'd be in trouble. As he entered the bridge, all eyes turned to him.

"Logan, good to see you. Please walk with me." Revan requested as she closed the distance between the two.

The two walked in silence for several minutes until Logan couldn't bear it any longer.

"What did you want from me, Revan?" He snarled.

"My, where are your manners? Did you perhaps leave them on Malachor?" She asked, "You'll see what I have in store for you soon enough."

The two continued to walk until Revan turned and stopped at the door to the hangar bay. Punching in the code, the door opened and she gestured for Logan to enter first. Remaining wary and checking the room for traps but unable to detect anything with the force, he spun around as he heard the console outside the door beep again. Revan had trapped him in the hangar! Between them, inside the doorframe, stood an energy shield.

"I must confess Logan; I'm a bit disappointed at how easily you fell into this trap." She taunted, not bothering to contain her laughter.

"Let me out of here and we'll see how disappointed you are then." He replied.

"Not today, my friend. No, you see, in ten minutes blast doors to the hangar will open and that ship behind you will be leaving for Coruscant. You can either get on it and live, or remain hear and die. Though I do suggest you choose quickly, time is, as they say, of the essence." She said, smirking at the frustrated Knight.

"I will kill you one day, Nightstalker."

"Doubtful Nalju, but it would seem you still retain your sense of humor. Do tell the Council I said hi, won't you?" She said as she left.

Gritting his teeth, the Ex-General had no choice but to board the ship. Entering the cockpit, he was dismayed to find that there were no controls.

'_A drone ship?! That bastard, I can't go back to the council. They'll kill me!_' He thought as he slammed his fists down on the dashboard. Throwing out his hand, he attempted to electrify the circuits of the ship but to no avail. The lightning would not come out. Growing frustrated, he attempted to lift his lightsaber with the force, nothing.

'_No..._'

He slumped to the ground as the blast doors opened and the ship took off for Coruscant.

Gasping, the Exile opened his, startled to find that night had settled. Across from him, Visas lay in their bed, sleeping. Standing up, he suppressed a groan at his cramped legs as he crawled into bed to lie beside her.

"Goodnight, my love." He said, gently kissing her lips before settling into sleep.

* * *

I would just like to reply to some of my reviewers, you've really made this worth writing, to me anyways.

Thuirthia Windsong− Thank you for being so supportive, I love you.

Almostinsane− I hope this has slaked your thirst for more on the Exile.

Jen DeClan− Thank you, I'm liking your story so far as well. You'll just have to wait and see about Carth.

Blatant0− A special thanks to you, it was your review that made me want to continue with this story.

Last, and least... General-Joseph-Dickson− I don't know why you're lost, you didn't tell me what's confused you.


End file.
